Friendship
by dlhs8954
Summary: DIZ Zorro - My little change of pace story. A study of the strange friendship of Don Diego/Zorro and Sergeant Demetrio Lopez Garcia. Stranded in the wilderness, miles from Los Angeles, will Zorro and Garcia hunt each other or call a truce?
1. Chapter 1 In the Wilderness

A/N: A little Disney Zorro ditty…not too deep, just a little study of the friendship between Don Diego/Zorro and Sergeant Garcia. It could take place any time after the Eagle, before the move to Monterey. Alejandro has not revealed he knows Diego is Zorro, but there is a hint of him thinking about it.

FRIENDSHIP

CHAPTER ONE – In the Wilderness

Zorro rode Tornado out of the pueblo at full gallop. The night rescue had gone all wrong. _I'm going to have to change some things_, he thought. _Either Sergeant Garcia's getting smarter, or I'm more of a baboso_. _They almost caught me tonight, and they're giving a good chase right now_!

Zorro usually loved giving Sergeant Garcia and his lancers a merry chase, but tonight, he was tired, and he just wanted to get home as quickly as possible before…

_Before Father knows I'm gone_, he thought. He guided Tornado through a grove of trees, hoping he could lose them in the chase. He turned his head around to see how close the pursuers were, and misjudged where the trees were. As he turned front, a tree branch whacked him in the forehead and knocked him off Tornado. He landed with force on the ground with his left foot caught underneath him; the wind knocked out of him. The edge of the grove was near a small arroyo, and the force of Zorro's fall made him roll into it.

Z

"You know, Bernardo – you'd think the new Magistrado would know by now that these little schemes to oppress the people of Los Angeles won't work. I think that most of these oppressions are to try and trap Zorro – eh? Why do they keep doing them? I know – I shouldn't complain – but Bernardo – I can't help but think we've been lucky so far – and I hope our luck doesn't run out!" He reached out and gave Bernardo's arm a playful slap.

Earlier in the day, Diego de la Vega and his manservant, Bernardo rode back to the hacienda. Diego rode his palomino. They'd gone to the pueblo to investigate the imprisonment of a peon who worked at a neighboring rancho. Diego was still mulling in his mind what he should do.

Diego was silent for a while. He kept going over different scenarios in his mind, and whenever he thought of something, he would say it – all the way home to the hacienda. Diego laughed at one such thought. Bernardo tapped him on the shoulder with a puzzled look on his face. Diego shook his head, then looked down.

"It's funny, Bernardo. Remember when the agents of the Eagle 'framed' me for being Zorro? I can laugh about it now – but I was so angry at Sergeant Garcia for being in on the plot..."

Bernardo tapped him on the forearm and nonverbally questioned him again. "Oh, you want to know what I am laughing about. Well – while I was in jail, Sergeant Garcia told me I must not know Zorro very well…that Zorro would come over the wall as he always did…Am I really that predictable, Bernardo? Because if I am – they may be able to trap me some day – and then…"

He did a hanging gesture. Bernardo's expression reflected the horror of it. Diego cocked his head to one side and pursed his lips together.

"What made me so angry was the thought that Sergeant Garcia, who I thought was my friend – would set me up like that. Evidently I was making a nuisance of myself with Senora Toledano and her innkeeper friends…But I was, after all, asked to keep an eye on her by her husband. I guess she didn't like me being so diligent in my duty. What do you think, Bernardo?"

Bernardo gestured again. "You want to know how I can be friends with Sergeant Garcia – when I know he wants to capture me for the reward. Well – I like Sergeant Garcia. He's a good man in a difficult position. As a Sergeant in the King's Lancers, he has sworn to serve his government, right or wrong. I know he has a good heart. If it weren't his duty to try to capture me all the time, I think he and I could be really good friends."

Bernardo looked up at the sky and frowned a moment. Diego followed his eyes. "Oh, si, it is going to rain soon. We'd better get home."

Z

At the bottom of the arroyo, Zorro found he couldn't move for a few moments. He blinked his eyes and struggled to sit up, shaking the cobwebs out of his head. As he started to get up, he put weight on his left foot and the surprise pain made him cry out as he awkwardly got to his feet. _I think my ankle is sprained_, he thought. He whistled for Tornado but the horse had already galloped away. _Tornado's not usually like this_, thought Zorro. _Maybe he'll come back after he runs it off. In the meantime, I better find better cover than this arroyo_.

Z

Sergeant Demetrio Lopez Garcia hoped to capture Zorro for the reward. It had been his dream for a year. Not only did he want the reward money – he also wanted the prestige he knew would come with capturing a bandito of such fame. He'd helped various Commandantes use every trick in the book they could think of – and Zorro always seemed to either know about the trick or trap ahead of time – or be able to evade capture during the chase.

That night – the chase led Zorro, Garcia, and about a dozen lancers out into the wilderness outside Los Angeles. He nearly captured Zorro in the cuartel earlier by using the peon as bait. But the chase was long, and Garcia was thirsty. What he wouldn't give to sit down in the tavern with his friend Don Diego and a large mug of wine…

Now, they were miles from Los Angeles, out in the middle of nowhere, it seemed, except for a large grove of trees. Large boulders, little rises, and small ravines were close by. Garcia thought he heard something up ahead. Garcia stopped about fifty feet before the grove of trees.

"Lancers! Spread out! I thought I heard Zorro cry out. He might be injured! Lancers! Dismount! Move slowly – and – be careful…" The lancers, with Sergeant Garcia in the lead, dismounted and made their way towards the grove of trees. As they watched, Tornado ran past them. Garcia shouted, "Lancers – to horse!" They remounted and quickly followed in pursuit.

It was very dark and no one had a torch. Garcia's horse stumbled at the edge of the arroyo Zorro had just climbed out of. Garcia exclaimed as he fell, but the lancers rode on – his voice lost in the thunder of horse hooves and lancers' shouts. When Garcia tried to get up, he stumbled on a rock and fell against another. When his head hit against the rock, Garcia was rendered unconscious for a minute or so. When he awakened, he called out.

"Lancers! Where are you? Get me out of here! Lancers!"

Z

Zorro watched from the edge of the grove of trees and saw Garcia's fall from his horse and his stumbling over the rock. He lay on his stomach as he watched. He knew it could possibly be hours before the lancers discovered Sergeant Garcia wasn't with them, before they would turn around to search for him. _I have to see if Sergeant Garcia is all right_, Zorro thought. _But I have to get up to do that_.

He rolled over to his right side and dragged himself to the trunk of a tree. He looked at his foot. He could feel the swelling make his boot tighter. He pulled himself up against a tree trunk by putting his back to it, then hobbled to the edge of the arroyo.

Z

"Lancers! Where are you? Help!" Garcia called out into the night.

"Sergeant Garcia! This is Zorro! Are you all right?" Zorro peered down into the nearly ten-foot deep arroyo.

"_Zorro_! I think – I think I am all right – but my head hurts. I cannot see very well. I am very light-headed."

"Sergeant, can you get up? Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Si, I can get up." He tried to rise, but swayed and fell back again to a semi-reclining position. "I do not tell the truth. I – I cannot get up. Can you help me, Senor Zorro?"

"I will try, Sergeant, but I am also slightly injured. I'll help you as soon as I can." Zorro paused a moment, thinking.

"Sergeant, listen to me – we are alone. Your lancers are gone. Our horses are gone. There is only you and me out here. We must make the best of it. Let's call a truce – just until we get back to Los Angeles."

"A truce? How do I know I can trust you? You have tricked me many times." Sergeant Garcia harrumphed.

Zorro snorted back. "How do I know I can trust _you_? You have tricked…" He cut himself off… _You have tricked _me_ before, too, Sergeant Garcia_, he thought, remembering the set up and knock out. Aloud, he said, "You have tricked Zorro with your traps."

Both were silent a moment, then Garcia broke the silence. "Please Senor Zorro – I need help. I cannot get up by myself. My head hurts. I am very dizzy. Si – let's call a truce."

Zorro thought a moment. "All right, a truce. I will be down un momento."

Zorro slid down into the arroyo and hobbled over to Garcia, while he reviewed the logistics in his head. "The way I see it, Sergeant Garcia, I am going to have to trust _you_, more than you will have to trust me. I will help you out of the arroyo, then you will probably have to help me get out. I got out once, but I may not be able to do it by myself a second time. All right? Do we have a bargain?"

Garcia put a hand to his head a moment, as if trying to process the information. "Si, Senor Zorro, we have a bargain."

"All right, Sergeant." Zorro gave logistical instructions to Garcia about shifting his weight, climbing up on his haunches then using a bush on the side of the arroyo to pull himself up. Zorro helped provide momentum – with his boots – by lying on his back and placing his feet on Garcia's backside, and pushing.

Once Garcia was up, he swayed again. "Zorro! I am dizzy!"

"Put your hand out to the wall of the arroyo to steady yourself. You can do it, Sergeant! I have the utmost confidence in you!"

Garcia smiled and it lit up his whole face, even though his head reminded him of pain. "Gracias, Zorro! That is one of the nicest things you have ever said to me!"

Garcia remembered – just a short time ago – when Zorro had told him "_You're a good man, Sergeant_." The sergeant knew he had really disappointed Don Diego by not getting an important message to Old Juan, the de la Vega servant. He had been distracted in the kitchen by Corporal Reyes' pilfering of a cooked chicken. Don Alfredo was nearly killed. Garcia was thankful when the opportunity came to redeem himself. He didn't mess that up. His face wrinkled at the memory of Don Diego's voiced anger. He felt so badly. After all, Don Diego was probably the best friend he had. But then Zorro had praised him – and the next time he saw Don Diego, he seemed to have forgotten his anger.

Garcia put his hand out to Zorro, with a smile. "Gracias, Zorro. Gracias for helping me up."

Zorro hesitated a moment before accepting the hand. He made a decision to trust with a backup plan in case he was betrayed. Zorro had occasion to trust Garcia before – with the gunpowder – and Garcia had not betrayed that trust.

Zorro reached up his hand, Garcia took it, and hauled Zorro up.

Z

"What now, Zorro? How do we get out of here? We are a very long way from Los Angeles." Garcia's brow furrowed as he set his mind to thinking.

"Well, Sergeant. First we climb out of here, then you will help me walk. I will help you see – to keep you from running into or tripping over things and help you stay standing."

"Gracias, Zorro. Where did you say you were hurt?"

"I didn't. But – it could be my ankle – I may have sprained it."

Garcia slipped down the embankment every time he tried to climb out. Zorro shook his head from side to side and made a decision.

"Sergeant, I'm sorry. We are not making progress. Here is what I will do. I will bring a sturdy tree branch for you to use to pull yourself up. Comprende?"

"How do I know I can trust you, Zorro? How do I know you will not leave me here?" Garcia frowned.

"Will you believe me if I give you my word, Sergeant?" Zorro looked at him with a small smile, clumsily climbed out of the arroyo.

Z

With only a little help from Garcia, Zorro climbed out of the arroyo. From the edge, Zorro looked down. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Sergeant. I'll try not to go out of earshot. So, if you want to speak to me, just shout out. I will hear you."

"Si, Zorro. But hurry – please."

Zorro hobbled into the woods looking for anything he could use to help Garcia climb up. It needed to be a long, but sturdy tree branch…something both he and Sergeant Garcia would both be able to hold on to…something that would also hold Garcia's massive weight without breaking.

"Zorro! Can you hear me? How is the search going?" Garcia was nervous. He wanted to trust Zorro, but he wasn't sure he could. After all, he'd been chasing Zorro with the intent to capture him – until they'd both tumbled off their horses. And Zorro's past taunts of being a 'big, fat Sergeant' also came to mind.

"Still looking, Sergeant – I haven't found anything suitable yet." Zorro called from the grove.

A few minutes went by before the corpulent sergeant called out again. "Zorro? Are you still there? Can you hear me?"

From a bit further off, Zorro replied, "Si, Sergeant Garcia. I am still looking. I will let you know when I find something."

Z

More minutes went by. Zorro had seen several long branches, but none of them were stiff enough to hold Garcia's weight. He'd tried to stay in contact with the large sergeant, but wearied of the almost constant calling out. _I have to find something suitable soon_, he thought. _Sergeant Garcia has enough trouble trusting me in this awkward truce – he might think I'm slowly sneaking away from him_.

His eyes spotted a long, thick downed tree branch. He limped over and started dragging one end of it. He thought he'd get a little closer to the arroyo before telling Garcia he'd found something. But in the dark, he didn't see the rock. He tripped over it, slamming his head hard against the ground.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2 What If

A/N: Thank you to those who are reviewing. I so appreciate them! Icy Waters, thank you for your comment about dashes. I will try to use them more conservatively.

CHAPTER TWO – What If

From the arroyo, Garcia waited another few minutes before calling out again. "Zorro! Are you there, Zorro? Have you found anything you can use yet?"

No answer. Garcia waited a few moments, and called out again. "Zorro! Zorro? _Zorro_, are you there?"

No answer. The weight of the silence hit Garcia in the gut like a sledge hammer. _I've been left to die. Zorro has slipped away. But no_, he thought. _Zorro is not like that. He wouldn't leave me alone in the arroyo like this. Something must have happened to him. But what_? The feeling wasn't unlike the horrible feeling he'd felt when he realized he'd forgotten to give Old Juan an important note from Don Diego. The de la Vega hacienda was taken over by Administrado Varga, the man who called himself the Eagle. He was an evil dictator who wanted to rule over all California as emperor.

"Zorro! Zorro? Are you there, Zorro? I am still here…me…Sergeant Demetrio Lopez Garcia…I am still here…waiting…"

Garcia shut his mouth. He looked around to see if he could find something to help him get out of the arroyo. _If I only had toe and hand holds, a stiff rope, a tree branch, or a ladder_, he thought. _I could climb out of here without help_. This was one time he wished he weighed a lot less.

Z

Zorro blinked his eyes open. His head hurt. What happened? He rose to an elbow and looked around. He grunted as his head reminded him he'd been knocked out. He didn't know for how long. He put a hand to his head and started to rise, only to be reminded that his foot hurt.

"Sergeant Garcia! Are you still there? This is Zorro." He called into the night, as he hopped up on one foot.

"_Zorro_! Why didn't you answer me?" Garcia tried to keep the panic and irritation out of his voice.

"Sorry, Sergeant. There is good news and bad news. The good news is I found a perfect tree branch to help you. The bad news is my foot is worse. I tripped on a rock, and knocked myself out. That is why I could not answer you. I am very sorry. I will crawl if I have to. But it might take a little longer to get to you."

"I can go nowhere, Senor Zorro. I have nothing to do but wait. But Zorro, can we talk as I wait for you?" Garcia was hopeful. _Maybe he will give me a clue to his identity_, he thought. _Then, I can capture him later_, _collect the reward, and retire from the Army_. That's all he could think of whenever he saw Zorro.

"Certainly, Sergeant. What would you like to talk about?" Zorro grunted as he began to hop up and down the length of the long, thick tree branch. He noticed he could break off a smaller branch from the main that he could use as a crutch.

"Oh – I don't know…ohhh-hh-hhh…" Garcia stood at the side of the arroyo when he swayed again, and had to throw his hand out to catch himself.

"Anything you like, Sergeant. _Sergeant_, are you all right?" Zorro heard the groan from the grove of trees.

"Just a little dizziness, Zorro. Otherwise, I am fine."

"You probably have a slight concussion, Sergeant. I will bring the branch as soon as I can."

Z

It took Zorro fifteen minutes to drag the thick branch to the edge of the arroyo. Upending it, he used the branch as a large walking-type stick, managing to drag both it and himself to the arroyo.

"Here, Sergeant. Grab ahold of the smaller end. I will hold the thicker end up here." Zorro put the branch down and sat on the thick end and. He leaned over to help reach Garcia's arms to pull him up.

It took a lot of heaving and hauling, grunting and groaning, but Sergeant Garcia finally crawled out of the arroyo. At one point, it seemed the branch was going to break. They both heard it crack. With one great, swift effort, and Zorro's arms pulling him, Garcia was hauled out of the arroyo.

Both of them were out of breath, their lungs heaving. Garcia was out of breath from climbing and trying to hold on. Zorro was out of breath trying to hold on to Garcia so he could climb. They sat there, one on either side of the thick branch.

"You know, Senor Zorro – you are not such a bad fellow, after all." Garcia smiled, as he tried to get his breath under control.

"You know Sergeant, neither are you." Zorro reached over the branch and gave Garcia's arm a friendly slap. "You are a good man, Sergeant." He paused for a breath. "I just wish you weren't a soldier, out to capture me for the reward."

"Gracias, Zorro. And si, sometimes I wish you didn't have a price on your head…" He paused a moment. "Why do you go against the government, Zorro?" Garcia looked at him questioningly.

Zorro drew in a breath, and let it out slowly to get his breathing under control. "Sergeant, I think you are acquainted with the concept of justice, are you not?"

"Oh, si, Zorro. I think so." His brow furrowed; he wasn't sure where Zorro was going with this.

"May I ask you a question?" Zorro thought. He wanted to feel Garcia out, to see where he stood personally. He thought he already knew, but wanted to confirm it.

"Si, you may ask any question you like. If I know the answer, I will be happy to tell you." Garcia's expression reflected his sincerity.

"Is it justice when tyrants reign and the people are oppressed? Or taxed until they have nothing left? Or beaten just because they oppose injustice? Is it right to unlawfully, without merit, imprison caballeros, peons, or vaqueros?" Zorro's voice had an edge to it, but he tried to keep the worst of the passion out of his tone. He didn't want to antagonize Garcia. They had to work together to get out of this jam they'd both gotten themselves into.

"Senor Zorro, I am a simple soldier who follows orders. I cannot let my personal feelings interfere. I must follow orders, whether I like them or not."

"Sergeant, if you were commanded to execute me, would you do it? Knowing that you would be killing the only person who has kept a corrupt and tyrannical government from running rampant on the people? Would you do it? If you knew my identity, you had caught me, and you discovered it was your best friend in the world – would you do it?"

Garcia felt there was more to this question than Zorro was asking, but he didn't know what it was.

"A soldier follows orders, Zorro. That is all. I would be hanged if I didn't." Garcia's voice had an almost pleading tone to it.

"Si, I know that. But, let's play a little game, shall we?" Zorro smiled.

"What kind of game?" Garcia looked puzzled again.

"A game where we pretend you know who I am…and I turn out to be the best friend you've ever had. We'll play a 'what if' type game. I'll ask you questions. You ask me questions, and we'll discover what we want to know, all right?"

Garcia took a moment. "All right, but I don't know what my best friend has to do with it."

"You will have to use your imagination, Sergeant."

"Oh – si. My imagination…" He scratched his head, and shook it slightly, trying to understand where Zorro was going with this.

"First of all, Sergeant…who is your best friend? Who would you trust your life to? Who do you have the most fun with? And who trusts you?" Zorro knew the answer, but pretended he didn't.

"My best friend? That would be Don Diego. He is my best friend." Garcia smiled. "I like him very much."

"Okay. Let's pretend that beneath my mask, I am Don Diego. Can you do that?"

Garcia laughed out loud. "It is hard for me to think of Don Diego behind your mask, Senor Zorro. He is the least likely…" He paused a moment as his imagination got into the game. He frowned. "I would not like to think that Don Diego would do that to me. He would not be Zorro who tricks me, who plays me for a fool."

"No one would like to think that, Sergeant. But let's just say for argument's sake, I'm Don Diego de la Vega. You caught me, and you have been ordered to execute me. Could you do it?" Zorro was serious, but if Garcia had looked closely, he would have seen a twinkle in Zorro's eye.

Z

Bernardo looked at the clock. Zorro should have been back an hour ago, he thought. He descended the stairs from the small room off Diego's fireplace, and went to the cave. As he went through the tunnel, he heard Tornado snort, and knew the stallion had returned. But where was Zorro? And why didn't Tornado stay with him? Bernardo didn't know the answer to those questions.

Z

Garcia said nothing for a moment. Zorro could tell that all kinds of emotions were running across Garcia's face. Then, he saw determination, which meant he'd made a decision.

"If you were my best friend Don Diego, and I was ordered to execute you…si. I would have to do it. But I would not be happy about it. And I would try to see if there was some other way to get him out of it."

Zorro stretched out a hand as Garcia struggled with his balance. "Here, use my hand to help balance yourself. Once you are up, you can help me up, all right?"

"Si, Zorro. Gracias."

Once up, they walked away. As they walked, Zorro picked up where the conversation had left off.

"How would you try to get Don Diego out of it? If I was your friend Don Diego and I am Zorro, and you caught me."

Garcia thought a moment. "Well, I could look the other way if an escape attempt was made."

"Really? How would you do that?" Zorro was intrigued. He cocked his head to one side.

"Well, you have tricked me before, Zorro. You could use one of your tricks again. You once put a bag over my head and told me to stand in the corner with a sword at my back until you said to move – but you had already left."

Zorro laughed. "Si, I remember that. It's a good trick, Sergeant. You should try it sometime. How else could you get me out of it? If I were Don Diego?"

"I don't know, Zorro. I'm sure there are lots of ways. I think it would depend on you, on Don Diego, and what he wanted to do. He always has good ideas."

"Si, he is an intelligent man." Zorro paused a moment. "What if no way was found to get me out of it? Would you execute me? If I was your best friend Don Diego even though you wouldn't like to, would you still do it?"

"Si. I would."

"You would." Zorro was incredulous. He shook his head.

Garcia groaned and swayed. He put out a hand. Zorro grabbed it. They stopped a moment as Garcia's dizziness passed. Garcia picked up where they left off.

"If there was no way to release Don Diego, I am but a mere soldier who follows orders, Senor Zorro. My duty is to follow and obey. I would have to, but I would not like it."

"But what about your conscience, Sergeant? Doesn't that bother you? When you are ordered to punish and imprison innocent people?"

"Si, it bothers me, but what can I do?"

"_Sergeant_!" Zorro exclaimed as he threw out his hand, as his 'good' foot stepped on a rock. He started to fall. Garcia put his arm out and Zorro grabbed it. They stopped a moment, as Zorro regained his balance. "Sergeant, have you ever thought about _disobeying_ an order?"

"Are you all right now, Zorro?" Zorro nodded.

Garcia remembered the question. "I _couldn't_ _openly_…disobey an order. I would be court-martialed. Then _I_ would be executed! Zorro, can we stop playing this game now? I do not like it. We are going around in circles. There is nothing I can do. I am a soldier. I do my duty. I follow orders, right or wrong. If I am given a bad order, I do not get in trouble for obeying, but the Commandante gets in trouble for giving it."

Zorro said nothing for a while. Garcia let out a huge sigh. In his heart, he knew something had changed in his relationship with Zorro. He could tell Zorro was irritated about something, but he didn't know what. They stopped another moment for Zorro to rest his foot.

"I see your point, Sergeant. Now, I think we should be going, don't you? We have a long way to go…"

"When do we sleep, Zorro? I am tired. It is very late. I am sleepy." Garcia pulled himself up on his feet.

"We don't, Sergeant. We can't afford to. If you do have a concussion, you shouldn't sleep. But now I know for sure that for you it is duty above everything, even friendship...I think we should be going."

Garcia didn't have a proper response to that statement, so he remained silent.

Z

Don Alejandro de la Vega was in the Library at the huge desk, working on the accounts for the rancho, when Bernardo knocked on the door, then came in. Alejandro turned and remarked, "Bernardo, where is Diego? Have you seen him? He missed supper."

Bernardo gestured 'horse riding' and put his hand to his forehead in a searching manner. Alejandro interpreted. "You don't know, but you think he went riding. When?"

Bernardo was a little vague. He alternately shook, then nodded his head and put his hands in the air for a moment, then put up three fingers. "Oh. He went riding three hours ago, you think?"

Bernardo smiled and nodded his head.

"It's dark now. Do you think we should go look for him, Bernardo?" Bernardo thought a moment, and looked at his watch again. It was hard to know what to do. He looked up and nodded to Alejandro.

"Which direction do you think he went?" Both of them headed towards the de la Vega stables. Bernardo tugged on Alejandro's arm – signing that he should stay home in case Diego came back. Alejandro agreed, then gathered a few of the vaqueros for a search party.

Bernardo hurried back to the hacienda, dashed through the cabinet in the sala and down into the cave. He mounted Tornado quickly, trying to convey his feeling of urgency to the stallion.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3 Unlikely Partnership

A/N: A shorter chapter, because the next one is a lot longer. Sorry for the delay – I had serious chocolate to make and ship earlier last weekend and earlier this week.

CHAPTER THREE – Unlikely Partnership

"Sergeant, can you help me with this smaller branch? I think I can use it as a crutch if you help me break it from the larger branch." Zorro had found a suitable tree branch along the way to break off.

"Senor Zorro, I will help you, now. But when we get closer to the pueblo…" Garcia put the branch on his leg to give leverage. With one great force, he snapped the smaller branch from the larger one.

The smaller branch was about six feet long. Zorro snapped about twelve inches off the smaller end, took out a small knife from his pocket, dug a hole in the center of the twelve-inch stick, then placed it on top of the smaller end of the branch, making a crutch. He used the knife to whittle the crutch top smoother. He was able to place it under his right arm, but progress was difficult and the crutch was unstable. He hobbled around in a small circle for practice, to get the feel of the makeshift crutch.

"Si, Sergeant. I know. You have your _duty_!" Zorro spat out the last word as if it were poison.

Sergeant Garcia still didn't quite understand why Zorro seemed angry, yet he felt bad about it. He knew it probably had something to do with what they had talked about, but he was being honest. He was a man under authority and in authority, and he had his job to do. And he would do it to the best of his ability.

"I am sorry, Senor Zorro. I do not wish to offend you. I wish we did not have to be enemies. I admire you for helping the peons and the unfortunate. Really, I do. I have to follow orders, but I make you this promise, Senor. I will help in any way I can. I will get my friend Don Diego to help me. He is very good at knowing what my orders really mean, and what they do not. He has good ideas. He has helped me understand things before."

Zorro stopped his practice hobbling with the crutch a moment, and looked at Garcia with a look of sincere gratitude. "I believe you, Sergeant. I will tell Don Diego to help you in that way."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Zorro. I will tell him the next time I see him. Which way should we go?" Zorro tilted his head in the right direction, north to the pueblo.

They were silent for a while, each their own thoughts. Zorro tripped over a fallen tree branch. He grabbed the crutch from under his arm, but it was too late. He fell in a heap on the ground.

"I think I'm going to have to stop here a moment, while I catch my breath." Zorro drew up his left foot and held it, swaying back and forth.

"Are you all right, Zorro?" Garcia's brow furrowed. "I will help you up." He reached out his hand.

"The pain in my foot, I – I need to wait until the worst of it passes."

Z

Bernardo petted Tornado as they rode, and gave Tornado the freedom to take them wherever the stallion wanted – hoping he would take them to Zorro. The half-moon rose, and that helped some, but it was still very, very dark.

Z

Zorro took a deep breath, then let it out. "OK, Sergeant. You can help me up now. Gracias."

As Garcia leaned his arm forward, he got a dizzy spell, and crashed on top of Zorro, with the injured left foot barely escaping Garcia's bulk landing on it. They both cried out in pain.

Z

Don Alejandro and the de la Vega vaqueros also rode in the darkness. They came across a patrol of lancers. Alejandro assumed Garcia was present and in charge. "Sergeant Garcia, have you seen my son, Diego?"

There was a murmur amongst the lancers, before anyone answered.

Corporal Reyes called out. "Don Alejandro, it is Corporal Reyes. Sergeant Garcia was with us when we were chasing Zorro, but we have lost track of him…we don't know where he is. And – we have not seen Don Diego."

Alejandro's face darkened at the news. "I'm very sorry to hear that, Corporal. If you do come across my son, tell him which direction I went. We're going south towards Capistrano."

"Si, Don Alejandro. And if you see Sergeant Garcia, tell him to report back to the cuartel and we will join him there as soon as we finish our patrol."

Alejandro nodded and waved. His group of vaqueros went south. The lancers went north.

Z

"Sergeant Garcia! Could you please roll off my foot!" Zorro panted. He grimaced.

"I am sorry Senor Zorro. I got dizzy. You were not there to catch me." Garcia put a hand to his head, groaned again, and fainted.

"Sergeant! Sergeant!" Zorro's voice reflected his growing panic and irritation at their utter helplessness. He pulled his 'good' foot out from under Garcia's lower legs and gently kick-rolled him off, then grasped his injured foot a couple of minutes, while holding it in the air. Fortunately, because of the rain earlier in the day, the ground where they landed was soft, and Garcia's legs didn't injure Zorro's right foot worse than momentary pain. Then, he rolled around and gently slapped Garcia's face, first one side, then the other.

"Sergeant! Sergeant Garcia! Sergeant Demetrio Lopez Garcia! Wake up! You must wake up! Now is not the time for sleep! You must wake up! Do you hear me! Sergeant!"

Garcia moaned quietly. "Sergeant! Wake up!" Garcia's head rolled around.

Zorro tried another tack. "Sergeant! This is the commandante! Wake up! This is an order!"

Garcia moaned again and mumbled. "Commandante? Commandante?"

"Si, this is your commandante. I order you to wake up Sergeant!" Zorro gently slapped Garcia's cheeks again.

Garcia struggled back to consciousness. "Commandante? Commandante?"

"Si, wake up!"

Z

"Don Alejandro, I don't think we'll ever find anything in the dark. Maybe Don Diego is home already." Jose, one of the vaqueros, was getting tired and he wanted to go home.

"Maybe you're right, Jose. But keep an eye while we're on our way home." Don Alejandro looked down at the ground, but it was too dark to see any tracks. He looked around but didn't see anything moving.

Z

Garcia blinked his eyes open. "Sergeant, are you all right?" Zorro sat on the ground beside him.

"Zorro?" Garcia tried to raise himself up to a sitting position, but grabbed his head and fell back down.

"Sergeant! Listen to me! Wake up!" Zorro gently slapped Garcia's cheeks again. "You must not fall asleep, Sergeant! It will be fatal if you do!"

Zorro began shaking Garcia's shoulders. Garcia moaned. "Zorro? Oh, my head hurts."

"Si, Sergeant. I think you have a concussion. Can you get up? Can you sit up?"

Garcia blinked again, and tried to get up. "Zorro, I seem to be having trouble…"

"Si, I know. What can I do to help you?"

Zorro pulled Garcia up to a sitting position. Garcia kept shaking his head, but instead of clearer vision, Garcia's vision was as blurry as it had been. Then slowly, Garcia looked around and his vision cleared.

"How are you now, Sergeant?"

Garcia smiled. "I think I am better, Senor Zorro. If you will help me up, I think we can go on."

"Excellent!" Zorro pulled himself up by his crutch and then held out his hand for Garcia. Once steadied, Garcia cautiously walked along, depending on Zorro's eyesight to help him avoid obstacles. He was glad he only experienced momentary dizziness from time to time. It had improved and was now not as bad as it had been.

Zorro limped along with his crutch. Garcia kicked rocks and sticks out of Zorro's way whenever he saw them in order to help their forward progress.

Z

Bernardo eased Tornado slowly forward. He saw the heavy tree branch leaned up against the side of the arroyo. Someone had used this heavy branch to help climb out of the arroyo. Tornado seemed to sense the familiarity of this place.

Bernardo dismounted and petted Tornado as he stooped to the ground to see if he could tell anything by the feel of the branch. He felt where it had cracked, and figured the weight of the man was probably somewhat heavy to cause that.

As he walked around, Tornado grazed on wild grasses. Bernardo smiled. Every once in a while, he would stoop to the ground and feel the boot print he'd found.

Z

Sergeant Garcia was hungry. "Senor Zorro, can we stop for a while? I'm very hungry."

Zorro looked down and shook his head, and breathed out. "Sergeant, I am very sorry, but there is nothing to eat…unless you could shoot a rabbit – if we see one."

Garcia looked down. "Can we stop for a moment, anyway? We've been walking a long time."

Zorro rolled his eyes. "Sergeant Garcia, we have not walked very far…although my foot does hurt. Let's find some shelter, all right? I think I see an overhang. We should be safe under there. We can sit for a little while." He nodded towards their left.

As soon as they both sat down on the ground under a rocky overhang, with their backs against the stone, they both dropped their heads and fell asleep. They were exhausted.

Z

Don Alejandro and his vaqueros searched another two hours. They stopped to give the horses a bit of a rest.

Alejandro spoke. "Gracias for searching with me…but I don't think we're going to find Diego this way. Let us return to the hacienda. There is a good chance Diego was delayed by a visit to a friend. He may already be home with Bernardo by the time we get back."

The vaqueros murmured in agreement. They turned their horses around and rode back to the hacienda.

"Pedro, would you see to the horses?" Alejandro asked his barn manager.

"Si, Patron."

Alejandro nearly ran into the house, he was so anxious. "Diego! Diego!" He ran from the sala to the library – no one there. He went out to the staircase and ran up to Diego's room. "Diego!" He knocked loudly on the door. One of the servants named Manuel came out from the sala and into the courtyard.

"Don Alejandro! You have returned. Did you find Don Diego?" Manuel looked up anxiously.

Alejandro came to the railing and looked down. "You mean he is not home? Where is Bernardo?"

"We thought he was with you, Patron." Manuel's eyes widened with concern.

Don Alejandro was tired, and he wanted to go to bed. "Gracias Manuel. Well, there is nothing more we can do tonight. I'm going to bed now. We'll search again in the morning if we need to – when we can see what we are doing."

Z

The half-moon was high in the sky. Zorro figured it was probably close to midnight, maybe later. He and Sergeant Garcia had slept at least an hour. Zorro stretched, then poked and shook Garcia awake.

"Sergeant Garcia, are you all right? Shall we continue?"

Garcia rubbed his hands over his face. "Si, Zorro, I am all right. Just give me a moment."

They walked another hour without stopping. Both men concentrated on walking or limping, as the case may be. They only talked when necessary. Both had excellent survival instincts and knew that unnecessary talking at this stage would sap their strength. Both were tiring, and both were very hungry.

"Zorro, can we stop a moment?" Garcia stretched out his hand to stop Zorro, but the action caught Zorro unaware. He lost his balance and fell, knocking the wind out of him. He lay so still Garcia was concerned.

"Zorro! Are you all right? Zorro!" Garcia got down on first one knee, then the other, using Zorro's fallen body to help steady him.

Zorro had fallen on his left side. Garcia, behind him, rolled him over on his back.

"Zorro! Zorro?" Garcia got a thought. _It would be a simple matter to lift the mask and see his face. I can find out who he is, without him knowing. But do I dare?_ Zorro had often implied that whoever discovered his identity wouldn't live long enough to tell anyone else. Garcia didn't think Zorro was a murderer. He had no way of knowing it had already happened, and a couple people had already died once learning Zorro's identity.

He thought it over a few moments. He would stretch out his hand a few inches towards Zorro's face, then pull it back. He thought about how he could carefully lift the mask to reveal Zorro's features without rousing Zorro. He was concerned Zorro would awaken if he felt someone that close to his face.

_Should I, or shouldn't I_? Garcia sat back on his knees a moment as he weighed his options. _I've wanted to know who this man is for a year now. He is so very clever. He is supposed to be my enemy. I am dedicated to catching him. Now, I have him in my power. It will be so easy…_

He reached for the mask.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4 The Sergeant's Dilemma

A/N: Thanks to all who review. I appreciate everything said. And yes, this takes place between the seasons…after the Eagle and before Monterey. I did invent a new magistrado later in the story. He is no one in particular.

CHAPTER FOUR – The Sergeant's Dilemma

As Garcia reached out to touch the mask, Zorro's hand shot up and grabbed Garcia's wrist.

"Sergeant, don't you dare to ever try to unmask me again! If you ever found out who I was…I would… probably have to kill you. I would not like to do that."

"You would kill – _me_, Senor Zorro?" Garcia looked mournful.

"You would execute _me_, would you not?" Zorro cocked his head to one side in an attitude of mild defiance.

"Si, that is my duty. But to kill me just because I unmasked you…that is murder, Zorro. I do not think you are a murderer. You would not kill someone in cold blood."

Although Zorro's grip on Garcia's wrist was still strong, his voice lost its harshness. "No Sergeant, I wouldn't. But others have pulled the mask down, and met with fatality that I really had nothing to do with. I would be afraid that would happen to you. And – I thought we had a truce."

Garcia was embarrassed at getting caught. "We do."

"You have a funny way of showing it." Zorro released Garcia's hand and raised himself up to a sitting position.

"Zorro, it is my duty to try to capture you. And when you were unconscious, well, it was too good an opportunity to pass up."

Zorro shook his head. "I can hardly believe that you would take advantage of me when we had a truce! Can I not trust you, Sergeant?"

Garcia lowered his eyes. "I am sorry, Senor Zorro. Of course you can trust me, but can I trust you?"

"Have I given you any reason not to trust me since we started this truce?" Zorro was a bit disappointed.

Garcia lowered his head. "No, you have not." He opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it.

Zorro broke the awkward moment. "Come Sergeant. Let's go. And…let's forget this happened, all right?" Zorro playfully slapped Garcia's arm.

Garcia smiled from ear-to-ear. "Gracias, Zorro."

Eventually, they made their way to a rocky overhang. As soon as they sat down underneath, they promptly fell asleep from exhaustion.

Z

The morning sun made its way under the overhang, and into Zorro's eyes. He awoke with a start, but as soon as he moved, his foot shot with pain. "OW!" he cried out without realizing it.

Garcia grunted, but as soon as he moved, his head exploded with pain. "OH-h-h!" he groaned out loud.

Zorro spoke first. "How is your head this morning, Sergeant?"

Garcia moaned. "Oh, Senor Zorro, do I have a head? It feels like it fell off. How is your foot?"

Zorro winced. "I think I will live. But, I may need to cut my boot off at some point. It's possible that the circulation is being cut off, but yes, I will live." He smiled. "I will live to be chased by you another day, eh Sergeant?"

Garcia laughed out loud. "Si! And I will live to chase you! Ah Senor Zorro…I wish I did not _have_ to chase you. Can you not give yourself up to me so I can collect the reward?"

It was Zorro's turn to laugh out loud. "Sorry, Sergeant. I don't think I can do that. I value my head far more than the reward that is on it. But, I give you permission to keep trying. Did you sleep well? You seem alert."

"Si, I think so."

"Then let's get going. The sooner we get started, the sooner we'll get home, and things can get back to normal, eh, Sergeant?" He playfully slapped Garcia's arm.

Z

"Senor Zorro…I hope I didn't offend you last night. I didn't mean to."

"To what are you referring, Sergeant?"

They walked along in the daylight as they had the night before. They'd walked about two hours when Garcia broke a sort of comfortable silence – as each man concentrated on walking without falling.

"Well, you asked me if I was ordered to execute my best friend, Don Diego, would I be able to do it. I feel that offended you, Zorro. I felt something changed…"

Zorro turned to Garcia and smiled. "No offense taken, Sergeant. I think both of us may have been on edge, exhausted, hungry, and in pain last night. I know that you have your duty. I was trying to see if you could look past it. I hope not, but someday, you may have to choose between duty or friendship. Duty may promote you, but a friend will always be there."

Garcia thought a moment. "Si, and Don Diego is my best friend. I hope he will always be there to help me when I need him."

Zorro nodded. "I hope he will, too." Zorro paused a moment, then changed direction. "There has been talk…maybe you've heard it, of Mexico's independence from Spain. If that happens in the near future, California, and Los Angeles will certainly have a change in governmental structure. How would you feel about that, Sergeant?"

"I don't concern myself with politics, Zorro. You know that. All I know is the military. If Mexico takes over California, they might send me back to Spain…but I am not sure I would want to go. I like California. I like Los Angeles. It is my home now."

"They might send you back to Spain, but they might give you a choice. Have you ever given any thought to what you would do if you were not a soldier?"

Garcia's eyes lifted up as he allowed himself to daydream. "Oh, I think I would like to own a tavern. I love wine. Even though you have told me to stay away from it, I find it very hard to do. There are so many good wines. I would like to try them all.

"My best friend, Don Diego, buys me wine whenever we are in the tavern together. But that is not the only reason he is my best friend. He explains things in a way I can understand. He helps me to think of things I would not have thought of. He is kind and considerate of others. He is generous, almost to a fault. Even when I…disappoint him, he is very forgiving…"

Garcia remembered that last time when Don Diego was _so_ angry…not very long ago.

_Diego was anxious. "You – gave the note to Old Juan all right? There were no questions?"_

_Garcia smiled, no problem, then got that 'uh-oh' look on his face. His eyes opened wide._

"_Oh. I was just on my way to…deliver the note when I ran into Corporal Reyes. He had taken some food from the kitchen, so naturally, I had to…"_

_Diego fixated on the note as Garcia pulled it from his waist sash. Diego took the note from Garcia. He was trying to control himself, but he was livid._

_Through gritted teeth, Diego said, "A simple thing like delivering a note – and you cannot do it right?"_

_Garcia hemmed and hawed._

"_I know Don Diego, but…"_

_Diego exploded. "BUT! BUT BUT BUT BUT! IT'S ALWAYS BUT WITH YOU, SERGEANT! Right here tonight, you may see some of your friends die because of your negligence – BUT! This is not important is it?"_

_Garcia was crestfallen. He reached for the note. "Si, it is very important. I will give him the note the minute he returns."_

_Diego tore it up. "IT'S TOO LATE FOR THAT NOW, Sergeant!"_

"_Please, Don Diego. I did not mean to do something wrong. I did not know…"_

_Diego was furious. "What do you mean, you did not know? I told you that the whole future of California was at stake! I could not have said it any plainer than that!"_

"_What can I do? I will do anything to make up for this."_

_Diego tried to maintain control, but was beginning to lose it. "The only thing you can do Sergeant, is to get out of my sight – and STAY out of my sight!"_

_Garcia turned and left Diego's bedroom. He felt terrible. There must be some way of making up for this. He had to figure out what._

_He had found the way. He had stopped the Eagle's henchman, Manuel, from killing Don Alfredo. Zorro happened on the scene and saw what Garcia had accomplished. That's when he said, "You're a good man, Sergeant." After that, Don Diego wasn't angry anymore._

Garcia smiled, and it lit up his whole face. "Si, Don Diego is my best friend…and si, I think I would like to own a tavern someday when I retire from the Army. I like being around people, and a tavern is a good place to be when I am lonely. It is not just the wine or people I love about taverns. It is also the food!"

"I seem to remember encouraging you to buy a tavern, didn't I?" _Uh-oh_, Zorro thought. _Why did I say that? It was Diego that encouraged him, not Zorro_. He watched Garcia carefully to see if he remembered.

"Si, Zorro. Wasn't it when Administrado Varga had taken over the de la Vega hacienda?"

"I believe so. I think…" Zorro laughed at the memory. "I think I encouraged you to chase me, for the reward, did I not?"

"Si, Zorro. But you have been able to elude capture. How do you do that?"

Zorro laughed. He wiggled the pointing finger on his free hand back and forth. "Trade secret, Sergeant." He laughed again.

Garcia smiled at Zorro's laugh, then got on a quizzical look. "Zorro…what is a trade secret?"

Z

Tornado whinnied. Bernardo jerked his head up as he awoke. He had stopped for only a moment, dismounted, and tied Tornado to a tree. He sat down and leaned his back against the trunk of the tree. He fell asleep immediately. He quickly got up, ran his hands over his balding scalp. He petted Tornado, then remounted, and continued their ride.

Z

Don Alejandro woke up and stretched. He put on his robe and looked in Diego's room. It was empty. He went downstairs for breakfast and smelled the breakfast burritos cooking. As he entered the kitchen, he smiled. "Has anyone seen my son this morning? I know it's early…"

The head cook turned to Alejandro. "No Patron. We have not seen him. Will he be here for breakfast?"

Don Alejandro was concerned. It wasn't like Diego to be gone so long without telling him. "I doubt it. Has anyone seen Bernardo this morning?"

The cooks shook their heads, and got back to their work.

Z

"Sergeant, do you see that? Is that a stream up ahead?"

Garcia's vision was clearing. "Si Zorro, it is. Do you know which one?"

They both began a slow, awkward, and laborious 'run' towards the stream. Zorro hoped there would be fish in the stream as well, fish for breakfast.

"No – I am not sure."

They lumbered along until they reached the stream's edge.

When they reached the stream, they were both out of breath. They dropped down on their stomachs and drank greedily from the stream with bare cupped hands. Garcia sprinkled water on his head, and washed his face. It helped his alertness. Zorro rolled into a sitting position after splashing himself and taking a few drinks with cupped hands.

As Garcia rolled himself to a sitting position, he got dizzy again. Zorro stuck out his hand and Garcia grabbed it until the dizziness passed.

Zorro rubbed his eyes with his wet fingers. He wetted his handkerchief and dabbed his neck. His left foot had throbbed earlier, but was tingly and numb now. "Sergeant, I need to have my boot cut off. Will you do it? I think my circulation is being cut off."

Garcia rolled over and got to his knees. "Are you sure, Senor Zorro? Won't it hurt worse? Once all the blood rushes into it…"

Zorro thought a moment. "Si, maybe…but I think in the long run…I do not want to get gangrene." He handed Garcia the small knife.

Z

Bernardo searched hours for some sort of tracks. Finally, he found the two sets of tracks at the arroyo. He recognized Zorro's boot tracks. The other set puzzled him, because it looked like the wide stride of a lancer's boots. He followed them carefully about two hours before he came across the rocky overhang. He dismounted again and let Tornado rest.

Bernardo wondered who the other set of boot tracks belonged to. It was possible they belonged to Sergeant Garcia. But if that were true, why would they be walking together. He noticed the stick-like impression imbedded in the dirt next to Zorro's left foot print. He wondered if Zorro had hurt himself and had made a crutch or a walking stick.

After resting a while, they continued on. It had been the policy from the beginning, that if Zorro and Bernardo met in public, they would pretend to have only a passing knowledge of the other person.

When Bernardo saw the stream ahead and saw Garcia and Zorro sitting aside it, he had to think fast, before he was seen. He weighed his options. There had to be a way to let Zorro know Tornado had only found him because Bernardo had ridden him there. He searched his pockets for a handkerchief to tie to Tornado's saddle that Zorro would recognize.

Z

Garcia unsheathed the small knife, but paused. Zorro braced himself. He closed his eyes, but opened them when he felt nothing.

"What are you waiting for, Sergeant? Do it! But don't cut my foot. I'm rather fond of it."

"Oh si, Zorro. I will be very careful." As Garcia slipped the knife under the top of the boot and began cutting. Zorro bit his lip from the seesawing, jarring action. He put the back of his fist to his mouth.

"I am sorry, Senor Zorro…" Garcia hesitated a moment.

"Why do you stop? Go ahead, cut it! Do not worry if I cry out. Do it anyway!"

"But Zorro, I do not want to hurt you! Maybe you had better do it." He held the knife out to Zorro.

Zorro shook his head. "No Sergeant. You do it. I'm not going to die from a little pain."

Garcia paused a moment and cocked his head. He turned his head as he heard horse hooves running their direction. "What – what's that?"

Zorro turned his head. He saw Tornado and whistled. He let out a deep, long breath. As he struggled to get to his feet, he saw two things. He saw Garcia's countenance fall and Bernardo's handkerchief tied to the saddle horn. He removed the handkerchief and stuffed it in his shirt. He looked around for Bernardo, but couldn't see him.

Zorro held Tornado's reigns in one hand, and patted his cheeks with the other. "Ah, Tornado. It is so good to see you, my boy. You left me in a lurch last night. While you were off gallivanting around the countryside, I was…well never mind. All is forgotten. I am glad you found us."

Garcia frowned. "But Senor Zorro, Tornado is only one horse. I do not think even Tornado could carry both of us." This was another time Garcia wished he didn't weigh quite so much. The horses he rode were larger framed animals that could carry his three hundred plus pounds.

"No, he can't, but he can carry _one_ of us. You'll have to trust me, eh Sergeant? Believe me when I tell you I will go to the pueblo and send the lancers back for you?"

Garcia thought a moment. He had a serious decision to make. Zorro could see the dilemma written all over his face. Was this the end of the truce?

TBC


	5. Chapter 5 Back to Normal

CHAPTER FIVE – Back to Normal

Sergeant Garcia made up his mind. From his expression, Zorro knew the decision had gone against the truce.

"Senor Zorro. It is not a matter of trust; it is a matter of duty. It is my duty to arrest you in the name of the Governor and the King. It will go easier on you if you give yourself up." He rose to his feet, unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Zorro's chest.

Zorro shook his head. "Sergeant, I'm taking Tornado. You will have to trust me…I wish you had declared an end to the truce…." Zorro sounded more disappointed than angry.

Garcia looked down, then up to look Zorro square in the eye. "I trust you, Senor Zorro. I am sorry it had to be this way."

"Well, at least we can get back to 'normal,' eh, Sergeant? I run, you chase me. We play cat-and-mouse." Zorro laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Gracias, Zorro. Back to normal. You run, I chase you. We will fight. Maybe I will win this time." Garcia smiled ear-to-ear.

"Let's find out, shall we?" Zorro spread his arms out with his palms upward and cocked his head to one side.

"Si, let's find out." Garcia moved his sword from Zorro's chest and readied himself.

"Very well."

Zorro unsheathed his sword. "En garde." He put his makeshift crutch under his left shoulder, held his sword left-handed until he threw his cape over his left arm, then wielded his sword with his right. He realized he would have to do without the crutch, so he let it drop and moved away from it.

An awkward swordfight ensued. Garcia thrust, Zorro parried. Zorro hopped around on his good foot as he began a riposte of his own to put Garcia on the defensive. Garcia would at times, put a hand out to regain his balance.

"Sergeant, remember when we fought together against the jewel smugglers?" Zorro thrust. Garcia parried.

"Si, Zorro. I enjoyed that very much." Garcia thrust. Zorro parried.

"So did I, Sergeant. I want you to know that if I ever have to be caught, I hope it is you who catches me." Zorro began to execute another riposte. Garcia parried.

"Gracias, Zorro." Garcia thrust again. Zorro parried. The fight and conversation continued.

"You know, Sergeant, I would not kill you, even if you did lift the mask, because I cannot kill a friend. I would, however, probably have to knock you on the head and hope you forgot my identity." Zorro smiled as he quickly moved his sword up to give Garcia a playful soft tap on the head with the flat of his sword, before parrying another thrust. Caught off guard, Garcia nearly dropped his sword; his free hand going to his head a moment, then realized what Zorro had said, and what the playful tap meant.

"Gracias, Zorro." Garcia's smile went from ear-to-ear. "I did not think you would kill me. You were just boasting, trying to frighten me, weren't you?"

"You see right through me, Sergeant, and yet you do not see me. That is the way I like it!" Zorro laughed.

"I see you well enough, Zorro!" Garcia's smile slipped from his face, and he fought more earnestly.

Zorro knew he had to bring this to an end. He executed an envelopment which sent Garcia's sword flying. It landed about fifteen feet away.

At that moment, Bernardo ran up to them and grabbed Garcia's arm.

Z

Garcia spoke first. "Hey, Little One, what are you doing here? How did you get here? Where is your horse?"

Bernardo signed something about going fishing, but doing it the old-fashioned way – with a homemade spear instead of a pole, and that his horse had run away when he stopped a moment to stretch his legs. It took Garcia about a minute to understand what Bernardo was trying to tell him.

Zorro used Bernardo's distraction to slowly mount Tornado. Holding on to the saddle horn with both hands, he jumped, pulling his stomach over the saddle, moving his right leg over, he sat up, and put his feet in the stirrups. He bent over and with his left hand, helped the toe of his left boot into the edge of the stirrup.

With his attention on Bernardo, Sergeant Garcia didn't notice his 'prisoner' was about to make his escape. "Well, Little One, let's see how good a spear fisherman you are. Let's see if we can make something for breakfast. Zorro, do you like…?" He noticed Zorro had mounted Tornado, but at the moment he was without sword. He wasn't above pleading, however.

"Zorro! Y-You are under arrest! Kindly surrender – please?" He moved as quickly as he could to recover his sword.

Zorro smiled. "Sorry Sergeant. You'll have to catch me in order to arrest me. Tell Bernardo I will tell the de la Vegas where he is. See you later, Sergeant."

Zorro waved and rode off before he received a response.

Z

True to his word, Zorro rode to the cuartel, but not before he stopped to write a note detailing the directions, tying them to a rock. He hurled the rock over the wall, then hammered the gate. When the outside guard saw Zorro, he opened the gates quickly; hoping to trap the infamous bandit, but Zorro swiftly rode into the cuartel, leaned over and rang the triangle a couple of seconds. Tornado snorted at the weight shift.

Zorro waited until he saw Garcia's sidekick. "Corporal Reyes! The directions to find Sergeant Garcia are on the rock!" He pointed at the rock on the ground. "Adios Amigos! Take two extra horses with you! Garcia and Bernardo are on foot!"

The lancers threw on their clothes and readied their rifles as they ran out of their individual quarters. They were upset at being roused out of their siesta. Reyes found the rock and picked it up. The guard hurried to close the gates, but only had one in place when Tornado and Zorro raced through the open gate. The guard hurried to get out of Tornado's way.

Zorro rode home. He couldn't feel his foot anymore and wondered about the circulation…

Z

As he hopped up the dark stone steps, one at a time, Zorro finally reached the small room off his bedroom fireplace. He sat in the chair and changed clothes. _I don't know what I'll tell Father_, he thought. _I have to get this boot off_. He turned the wall ring and hopped into his bedroom over to the dresser, where he took out a pair of large scissors, then hopped back to the edge of the bed. He began to cut the leather.

Z

Bernardo entertained Garcia with his 'spear' fishing. Garcia's head still bothered him some, but he felt somewhat less dizzy at times. He waved to get Bernardo's attention. Garcia built a fire in anticipation of having cooked fish for breakfast.

"Little One, are you sure you know how to catch fish this way?" Garcia shook his head with great skepticism, yet enjoyed watching Bernardo try.

Bernardo raised the spear into striking position and watched the water. Using the knife Zorro had left them; Bernardo whittled one end of the branch to a sharp point. It took nearly fifteen minutes. Garcia groaned about how hungry he was the whole time. Bernardo smiled whenever he looked up, as if he had not heard Garcia's complaints.

Bernardo took a few more unsuccessful stabs. He raised the spear over his head, and watched the water. He stood very still for almost a minute. Then, with lightning swiftness, he brought the spear down with such force that a huge and noisy splash occurred. But when the spear came out of the water – there was a fish on it!

Bernardo jumped out of the water and brought the fish to Garcia. Garcia pushed his neck straight back, his chin down, as if this was an affront to his dignity. Bernardo gave the stick to Garcia to roast the fish over the fire, found another stick, and began whittling another spear.

Z

Alejandro rushed into Diego's bedroom to find his son writhing in pain, lying half on, half off his bed.

"Diego! Son! Are you all right? Everyone in the whole house heard you cry out!"

Diego tried to talk, but although his mouth moved, no sound came out. Alejandro took the scissors from Diego's grip.

"Diego! Where have you been? What's happened to you? Where are you hurt?" As soon as the rapid-fire questions came out of his mouth, Alejandro noticed the cut boot on the floor and the enlarged, misshapen left foot.

Z

The lancers, under Corporal Reyes, made fairly good time, but even with Zorro's directions, it took them longer to reach Garcia than they had originally thought. Both men were eating their roasted fish by the time the lancers arrived.

Z

Diego bit down on the small stick as Doctor Avila set the bones in his injured foot. Don Alejandro had already helped Diego drink about half a bottle of brandy. Doctor Avila looked up into Diego's eyes, which were semi-glazed.

"Don Diego, how did you break your foot? Several of your metatarsals are broken. This will take a while to heal….about six to eight weeks."

Diego took the stick from his mouth as he grimaced. "Please do not ask me how I did it. I was clumsy – my horse reared. I fell off. My foot got the worst of it. I landed on it wrong."

"Where were you, Diego?" Alejandro interjected. "We searched for you last night. We could not find you."

"I – took a wrong turn on my way home from the pueblo last night. It was a beautiful night. I thought I would take a more scenic route home. Before I knew it, my horse reared, and I fell off. I landed hard on my foot."

"But Diego, I checked the stables. None of your horses were out last night." Alejandro tried to keep his voice calm, but wasn't sure what to make of Diego's story. He had suspicions.

Doctor Avila saw the desperate look in Diego's eyes and intervened. "Don Alejandro, he needs rest now. Here, Don Diego, drink this." He helped Diego drink a pain-sedative potion he'd mixed in the glass. You'll feel better in the morning. Here are some pain powder packets. You'll need them. If you need more after a week, let me know, but the pain should be manageable by then."

"Gracias, doctor." Diego emptied his glass, and immediately felt the effects of it. "Father, I am very sorry…I worried you." He yawned, stretched, and gradually relaxed into a gentle, but deep sleep.

Alejandro let his breath out. He would get no answers today. "Come Doctor. Would you join me in the sala for a glass of our de la Vega wine?"

Z

Bernardo rode home. He tried to make Sergeant Garcia understand that he would make sure the horse was returned to the cuartel.

Garcia rode to the cuartel with the lancers. He learned Doctor Avila had been summoned to the de la Vega hacienda because Don Diego had been in a riding accident. A lancer was sent to the hacienda to fetch the doctor.

"But Don Diego is my friend! I want to see him!" Garcia protested as Corporal Reyes and several lancers dragged him to his own bed, on threat of sword. Reyes shook his head. This was unusual for Garcia; he didn't usually have to be urged to go to bed.

"Si, Sergeant, you will see him…just not today." Corporal Reyes relished being in temporary command of the cuartel, even if only for a day or so, until the doctor gave permission to Garcia to go back on duty.

Z

As he slept, Diego dreamed.

_He heard the drums beat. His hands were tied behind him. Corporal Reyes was on one side of him, Sergeant Garcia on the other. He looked down at himself. He was dressed as Zorro, yet he could feel he was not wearing the mask. He looked up. Ahead of him was the gallows._

_The lancers were lined up with rifles at their shoulders. He looked around and saw his father and Bernardo. His father looked proud, but devastated. Bernardo was in shock and in deep sorrow._

_As they walked, Garcia turned his head towards him. "Senor Zorro – or should I say – Don Diego, I want you to know it gives me no pleasure to have to do this."_

"_I know, Sergeant."_

"_Just because it is my duty, it does not mean I enjoy it. I want you to know I will use the reward money to retire from being a soldier and open up a tavern. The de la Vega wine will be the main wine I sell. I will call the tavern El Poco Zorro, in your honor."_

"_Gracias for the honor, Sergeant. I know you have your duty…"_

"_Please, Don Diego, do not make this any harder than it already is." Garcia tightened his grip on Diego's arm._

"_Si, Don Diego, the Sergeant almost got drunk last night…" the Corporal interjected._

"_Be quiet, Corporal!" Garcia looked around Diego and gave Reyes a dirty look._

"…_And I don't think he got any sleep last night either." Reyes finished. _

"_I do not want to die, Sergeant. I want you to know…I understand, Sergeant. I want you to know there are no hard feelings." Diego tried to maintain a straight face._

_They stopped as they reached the bottom of the stairs. The slow drum beats were now 'in step' with Diego as he climbed one step after the other until he reached the top…_

Z

Don Alejandro and Doctor Avila were enjoying a glass of the de la Vega wine when they heard a knock on the door. An Indian servant showed the lancer in.

"Doctor Avila, I am Private Benito Rodriguez! Please come to the cuartel at once! Sergeant Garcia has been injured!" The private was used to saluting; sometimes forgetting he didn't have to salute non-military personnel.

"What happened, Private Rodriguez?" Don Alejandro interjected as Doctor Avila downed the last gulp of wine to empty his glass.

Z

Diego's dream continued.

_As Diego reached the top of the gallows, Garcia followed. "Please Senor Zorro, I mean Don Diego. Listen to me. I am retiring from the army. The tavern deal is all set. I have something to tell you."_

"_Por favor, Sergeant, let me die in peace…It is all right." Diego's voice almost pleaded._

"_But Don Diego, I'm telling you, you don't have to die…the Little One has brought Tornado…just beyond the wall."_

_Diego turned to look at Garcia. "Why are you telling me this?"_

"_Because Don Diego, you are my best friend…"_

Z

Private Benito Rodriguez continued. "The Sergeant and Zorro were both out in the wilderness last night many miles from the pueblo. Both lost their horses, although Zorro found his. The Sergeant fell and hurt his head. He thinks he may have a concussion. Please come, Doctor."

"I'll follow you into town, Private." Doctor Avila rose from his chair. "Don Alejandro, gracias. Your wine is excellent."

"Gracias, Doctor. I'll keep an eye on Diego."

Doctor Avila nodded. "Don't let him put weight on that foot for at least a week."

Don Alejandro nodded and watched them leave with a strange expression of his face, deep in thought. Too many people 'fell' off their horses last night…Zorro, Garcia, and Diego. What did that mean?

TBC


	6. Chapter 6 Diego's Frustration

CHAPTER SIX – Diego's Frustration

A week later, Doctor Avila came for a follow up examination of Sergeant Garcia. He examined Garcia's pupils and performed a balance test.

"Sergeant, I'm pleased with your progress. You are free to return to command on limited duty."

"What does that mean, Doctor?" Garcia was puzzled. He'd only stayed in bed one day, then he commanded from his desk.

"It means, you may work at your desk full hours, walk around the cuartel and the pueblo, but you may _not_ ride a horse, not yet."

"But Doctor, I am a soldier. I _must_ ride!"

"Not for at least another week, Sergeant. You want to be completely well, don't you?"

"Si…?"

"Sergeant, you wouldn't want to fall off your horse again, would you?"

"No." Garcia frowned.

Doctor Avila rolled his eyes. "Well…pretend you're one of your own soldiers, and I'm you. I've given you an order to follow."

"Oh – si!" Garcia smiled. He finally understood. As Doctor Avila turned to leave, Garcia called out. "Doctor?"

"Si."

"How is Don Diego? I heard he was in a riding accident. Is he all right? Can he have visitors?"

"I was just going to go see him, now, Sergeant. Would you like to come along? I'm sure a visit from a friend such as you will cheer Don Diego up. Since I have to come back to the pueblo, I'll bring you back, too."

Garcia smiled his biggest smile. "Gracias, Doctor."

Z

Diego hobbled about his room on the two crutches Bernardo had carved for him out of two tree branches about two inches thick. He was wearing his blue and white stylized clover patterned robe over a shirt and slacks. He still wasn't allowed to put weight on his broken foot, and it frustrated him greatly. Of course every time he tried, he was met with severe pain, which didn't make his mood any better. He wore a slipper on his right foot and a sock on his left over the splints and wraps.

"Bernardo, I really do appreciate you making these for me, but I wish I didn't need them anymore. I feel like I'm about to explode from boredom. There's only so much reading I can do!"

Bernardo pointed to the chess board near the fireplace. "Or, only so much chess I can play."

Bernardo pointed to the guitar in the corner. "Or so much guitar to strum."

Bernardo wiggled his fingers like he was playing the piano, and pointed down to indicate the sala. "Or piano to play!"

Bernardo looked at Diego with sympathy, and bobbed his hands up and down in a gesture of helplessness.

They heard a knock on the door. Bernardo answered quickly.

Z

Sergeant Garcia bounded through the door past the doctor when he saw Diego, and gave him a playful slap on the arm. He was a little too enthusiastic and Diego nearly lost his balance. Garcia saw that Diego was about to fall and steadied him. There was something familiar in that action, but he couldn't place it. He held Diego in front of him with his hands on both Diego's arms.

Garcia smiled wide. "Don Diego! I'm so glad to see you! They said you were in a riding accident! Are you all right?"

"It's good to see you too, Sergeant. Si…and si. But if you don't mind, may I sit down?"

Doctor Avila took charge. "Don Diego, why don't we sit you down on your bed while I check your foot? Bernardo, why don't you take Sergeant Garcia down to the sala for a glass of the de la Vega wine? Gracias."

Z

Doctor Avila took off the splints and bandages and examined Diego's foot, then put on clean wraps around the wooden splints. "You're lucky, Don Diego." He noted, "Your foot is improved. It looks like the swelling is going down. How is the pain? Do you need more pain powders?"

"No, Doctor. I'm fine. When can I put weight on it?" Diego's voice reflected his frustration and impatience.

Doctor Avila looked him straight in the eye. "I can see you're impatient. But wait another week. Then test it. If it doesn't hurt, you can try putting a little weight on it for a few minutes every day. Be very careful, Don Diego. Foot bones are designed to handle our weight, but they are small. I know you want to heal as quickly as possible. But that depends on how well you follow my instructions."

Diego rolled his eyes. "Si, Doctor. I'll do whatever is necessary. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Doctor Avila decided to broach what he knew would be a sensitive subject. "Don Diego, is there anything more you'd like to tell me about how this happened? You know I take an oath never to tell what I learn in the course of my profession…"

Diego felt Doctor Avila could see right through him. He gulped, then took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He pursed his lips together, and looked straight ahead. "No, Doctor. I've already said it all."

Doctor Avila snorted. "You mean you've said all you _will_ say." He packed up his bag. "All right, Diego. Just be careful. Take care of yourself. I'll see you in about four weeks. But if you need anything sooner, let me know. It's a wonder…" he shook his head.

Diego didn't ask him to finish his sentence. He struggled to get off the bed. Doctor Avila turned to help him.

"Here, let me help you downstairs. Sergeant Garcia is anxious to see you."

"How is Sergeant Garcia?"

Doctor Avila snorted again. "Come on, Diego. Let's go downstairs. You can ask him yourself."

Z

As Doctor Avila and Diego entered the sala, Bernardo hurried to help Diego down the three or so steps into the main room.

"It's all right, Bernardo. I think I can manage now. Gracias." Diego hobbled on his crutches to the nearest chair and gingerly lowered himself into it. Bernardo quickly brought a small footstool and pillow and helped guide Diego's foot to rest on top of the pillow. Bernardo and Doctor Avila went outside into the courtyard.

Sergeant Garcia took a drink from his wine glass. "Don Diego, I am so glad to see you. When Doctor Avila told me you were in a riding accident, I came as soon as I could. You are my best friend."

Diego smiled. "Gracias, Sergeant. You are my friend, too. I am glad to see you. I heard you were injured, Sergeant. How are you?"

Garcia grinned. "I had a concussion, but I am much better now. You know, Don Diego…this experience has made me see what a good friend you are to me."

"Really? In what way?" He cocked his head to one side.

"Did they tell you, that Zorro and I were stranded out in the middle of nowhere without our horses? Just the two of us?"

"Si. It must have been an unhappy experience for you, Sergeant."

"We were both hurt, and we had to rely on each other…" Garcia got on a puzzled expression. "Don Diego, how did you hurt _your_ foot?"

Diego was embarrassed and nervous. He kept his story as vague as possible. "I fell off my horse and had to walk a long way home."

Garcia put his chin in his hand, thinking. "That is such a coincidence…that both you and Zorro hurt a foot."

Diego gulped. "People get hurt all the time, Sergeant. I once knew two friends who broke the same arm the same day in very similar ways. What's so unusual about that? It happens all the time." He squirmed, trying to find a more comfortable position.

"Oh nothing, I guess. It just seems funny, that's all. Not funny, but…" Garcia decided to change the subject. "Don Diego, Zorro asked me who was my best friend, and I said you. Do you know why he asked me that question?"

Diego shifted again and grimaced. He tried to remain pleasant. "No, I'm sorry, I don't. I think you pointed out to me once before that I do not know Zorro very well."

Garcia saw Diego's discomfort. "I hope I didn't upset you. I think you are getting tired. He…he asked me if I could execute a friend."

Diego really did want to talk to Garcia about Zorro's conversation from this side, but he was tired and in pain. _Maybe I do need another pain powder_. _I still have a couple left_.

"Sergeant, I really do appreciate you coming to visit, but I'm not having a very good day. Could we continue this conversation another time?" Diego's looked regretful. "I am sorry. I do want to talk to you about Zorro's conversation and hear all about it. I look forward to it. But I am not at my best today. Every time Doctor Avila checks my foot, it seems to aggravate the pain."

Diego smiled to try to put Garcia at ease.

Garcia rose and went to the window. He poked his head out. "Doctor Avila, will you take me back to the pueblo now?" He turned around. "Don Diego, I will come back to visit you another day. I think...I think it might be important to me to talk to you about the conversation I had with Zorro…"

Diego smiled, and nodded. "I really do look forward to it, Sergeant. Thank you for understanding. That's what friends are for, Sergeant…and you are my friend." He thrust out his hand. Garcia shook it.

Garcia's all-consuming smile returned. "Gracias, Don Diego. I will see you another day."

Z

Bernardo helped Diego upstairs to his bedroom and eased him into bed. "Si, I think I need a rest, Bernardo. Gracias. I almost lost my temper with Sergeant Garcia. I don't want to do that when he has done nothing wrong."

Bernardo handed him a glass of water and a pain powder packet. "Si, I think I might need one after Doctor Avila's visit. His probing of my foot always makes it hurt worse afterward. Gracias, Bernardo."

Diego pounded one hand with the fist with the other. "This is so frustrating! I hate being laid up like this. At least four more weeks, the doctor said. Four more weeks! What if Zorro was needed? You'd have to do it, but I would hate it if anything happened to you. I don't like pain, and I don't like inaction!"

Bernardo looked at him with empathy.

Diego lay back, sighed, and shook his head. He stared at the ceiling for a while until he finally fell asleep.

Z

A week later, Garcia came back for another visit. Diego met him in the sala near the fireplace and they shared a glass of the de la Vega wine. Diego sat in a chair with his foot propped on a stool with a pillow beneath it. He wore a stretched-out sock over his foot to protect it. The sock had the toes cut off to help it stretch further. It reached about six inches above the ankle, but the wooden splints peeked out about an inch above the top of the sock. His crutches were propped by the fireplace. Garcia sat opposite Diego, near the long dining table. Bernardo stood near the table, ready to pour more wine for Sergeant Garcia.

"Muchas gracias, Don Diego," Garcia finished his first glass, and subtly held his glass out for a refill.

"Would you like another glass, Sergeant?" Diego smiled, knowing the answer.

"Gracias, si, I would." Garcia held his glass further up and Bernardo poured another glass. Garcia replied, "Gracias, Little One. You know, Don Diego, Bernardo is quite the spear fisherman."

Diego laughed. "Si, Bernardo is a man of many talents. 'Spear' fishing is only one of them. He told me that story."

Garcia sipped his wine and got a look of near rapture on his face. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "Don Diego, I have been doing a lot of thinking lately."

Diego raised an eyebrow. "What about?"

Garcia took another sip. "Well, I think I told you last week Zorro asked if I could execute my best friend."

"You mentioned something about it." He cocked his head to one side.

"Well, I…told Zorro I would do my duty. We played a little game."

"A game?" Diego listened intently.

"We were alone and…we had a lot of time on our hands."

"What was the game, Sergeant?" Diego played along.

"Zorro called it 'What If.' He asked me who my best friend was, and I said it was you, Don Diego. Then he said, 'What if I were Don Diego under this mask and I were caught. Would you execute me?' I could never believe you are Zorro, don Diego. Zorro mocks and makes fun of me sometimes. You are my friend. I trust you. You would never treat me that way."

"Gracias, Sergeant. I appreciate that. But surely, Sergeant, you have other friends besides me." Diego looked down a moment, then at Garcia.

Garcia waited until Diego's eyes found him again. "Oh si, I have 'friends.' But I know they don't really like me. I am not as much of a baboso as most people think. I mooch drinks – because if I didn't, no one would ever talk to me – unless they wanted something from me. I can't afford to buy the drinks myself. So I appreciate it when others include me. Sometimes, I have to ask to be included. And sometimes, I force my way into a group, because they cannot stop me."

Garcia fell silent a moment. Diego smiled a small smile. _No, Sergeant, you are not a baboso, you only act like one sometimes…_

Diego asked, "Sergeant, why do you think _I_ am your best friend?"

Sergeant looked Diego straight in the eye. "When I need advice, I come to you, Don Diego. You always seem to know what's best. You treat me with respect. You also know how to help me understand what I've been told by others. You help me see things from a different perspective. And you…trust me, even when I let you down, a couple times. But you are also very forgiving. And I appreciate that."

"I am genuinely touched, Sergeant. I had no idea you held me in such high esteem."

"Don Diego, may I ask you a question?"

Diego wiggled in his chair. While he enjoyed the sincerity of Garcia's remarks, he was becoming uncomfortable. What was on Garcia's mind?

TBC


	7. Chapter 7 A New Understanding

A/N: Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it. Next up: Suckled on Vengeance begins…in a day or so…Thanks to all reviewers, and for the nice comments on my little In Celebration birthday story. I posted a forum on Emma's forums, and she and I have been talking about it. After Suckled on Vengeance, Lightning Strikes Twice – just in time for Christmas…

CHAPTER SEVEN – A New Understanding

Diego bent over and adjusted the pillow under his foot to hide his discomfort. "Certainly. Ask away, Sergeant."

"We talked about my 'orders.' I know you have helped me before, once in a while, to understand exactly what my orders meant. You helped me know what I could do, and what I couldn't. Would you, could you to do that for me whenever I need help, Don Diego?"

Diego let out a breath. _I don't know why I thought he would ask a different sort of question_. _He has no suspicion_. "Of course, Sergeant! You didn't even have to ask. You're a good man, Sergeant. I know you are in a difficult position. You have a heart of gold, but you are often given orders that are unpleasant and sometimes evil."

"Gracias, for saying that. I have always thought of myself as a good man. I know right from wrong. I was taught that as a niño. When I became a sergeant of the lancers in the King's Army, I swore to defend the King of Spain and all his representatives, even ones who are…shall we say…a little dishonest."

Diego thought a moment, and nodded. "But haven't I seen you 'bend' those orders from time to time, Sergeant, when you thought you could get away with it?"

Garcia laughed, then looked around nervously. "Don't tell anyone, Don Diego, but I regularly try to delay or undermine an order I believe is wrong. Sometimes it works, but not always. When I am temporary Commandante, am I not fair?"

Diego turned his head a quarter turn, then looked at Garcia with knowing. He smiled. "Sergeant, I think I have underestimated you. I don't think you get enough credit for using your head. How is your head – by the way?"

Garcia's smile lit up his whole face. "Gracias, Don Diego. That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. You are a true friend. And my head…it is fine. A few pains sometimes, not often." He drank the rest of the wine and set the glass down.

"Gracias, Don Diego. And now, I must get back to the cuartel. And by the way, how is your foot?" He rose to leave.

"The pain is better, Sergeant. It's going to take a while to heal. I still can't put weight on it." Diego got up slowly and put his crutches under his arms. Garcia stepped over towards him and clasped Diego's upper arms. Diego leaned one of his crutches on his chest and put his free hand on Garcia's arm.

"Gracias for your visit, Sergeant. Come to me anytime you need help with a difficult order. I will be glad to help you."

"You are a true friend, Don Diego."

"I'm glad you think so, Sergeant Garcia. You are a friend to me as well." Diego remembered his dream, and what Garcia had just told him.

Z

A week later, Diego was still hobbling about, but he was down to one crutch. Bernardo helped Diego with the steps into the sala. Diego decided to revisit the Zorro conversation – focusing in on something different this time.

"You know, Sergeant Garcia, I'm enjoying our conversations about friendship and trust."

"Me too, Don Diego."

"Sergeant, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Don Diego. Anything."

"Sergeant, is Zorro really so predictable that you know which way he will enter the cuartel?"

"What other way could he come? He can't sneak through the gates. He would get captured. The only way he can come is over the wall that is closest to the jail. On the day of my accident, I snuck extra rations and an extra blanket to the peon."

"I am glad to know you treated your prisoner well, Sergeant. No one likes to be in jail, even if it is only for a few hours. Or overnight, like I was."

"I know, Don Diego. I am sorry about that. It was meant to trap Zorro."

"Si, but it didn't work, did it?" Diego shook his head. Diego remembered…

_Sergeant Garcia asked Diego to the tavern for a drink, knowing that the two Innkeepers and Senora Toledano had made arrangements to frame Diego for being Zorro – as a trap for the real Zorro. After being knocked on the head and 'found' with a partial Zorro costume on, Diego found himself in jail, once again 'accused' of being Zorro. He was very irritated and decided to confront Garcia, who sat in a chair just beyond the bars._

"_Sergeant, I want you to tell me something. Did you, in any way, have anything to do with this plot against me?"_

_Garcia's eyes widened innocently. "Why, Don Diego, what in the world do you mean?"_

_Diego fumed. "I mean that I trusted you. Oh, I thought there was something funny when you asked me to the tavern. I said to myself – Sergeant Garcia is my friend."_

_Garcia was humbled. "Please, Don Diego."_

"_And I've said aloud that your honesty and integrity are above question. And then, you proceed to betray me – your own friend – and for what? Did they?" He hesitated a moment, then looked at Garcia suspiciously. "Did they give you a bottle of wine, Sergeant?"_

_Garcia's discomfort was obvious. He had no idea that Diego would take this little joke so badly. It was so funny when he and Senora Toledano talked about it. "No, Don Diego, please. I could do nothing to hurt you."_

"_You take part in a plot against me, and you have the temerity to stand there and say that you could do nothing to hurt me." Diego was very angry. "Really, Sergeant!? I cannot believe it."_

_Garcia was desperate, but spoke calmly. "But it is true, Don Diego. Do not be upset. Nobody really thinks you are Zorro."_

"_Oh – it's just a little plot to get me out of the way?"_

"_Yes, I mean, no. Don Diego, when the real Zorro finds out you are in jail, he will come to rescue you, he is the one we want to catch."_

_The look on Diego's face spoke volumes. Sergeant Garcia can't be serious. "Oh, I see."_

"_So you see you have nothing to worry about."_

_Diego nodded slightly upward. Garcia was uncomfortable, but helpless._

"_Do you think the real Zorro would stay away and let an innocent man stay in jail?"_

"_And suppose the real Zorro does not show up?"_

"_Well, in that case, you might have something to worry about. Maybe a little. But I am sure he will come."_

_Diego's tone was sarcastic. "I find your confidence most reassuring."_

_Diego looked at Sergeant Garcia in disgust, then walked away from the cell door, then, with slow deliberation back to front in the cell. How could he get out of here and make them think Zorro released him? At least Tornado was here, even if he was disguised in that crazy straw hat Garcia put on him…and the funny white paint in places._

"_Do not be so nervous, Don Diego. Have you no faith in Zorro?" Garcia tried to be comforting._

"_At the moment, I have very little. There may be good reason why he cannot ride – tonight."_

_Garcia shook his finger at Diego. "You do not know Zorro like I do. He will show up. He will come over the wall, like he always does. But this time, he will not get away."_

As Diego thought about that encounter, Garcia drank the de la Vega wine and talked on and on. Diego's eyelids grew heavy and his chin dropped to his chest.

Sergeant Garcia got up to leave and put his glass on the table. "No, it didn't work. But everything turned out all right, didn't it, Don Diego? Zorro rescued you – just as we thought. Don Diego. Don Diego?" Garcia looked over at Diego, then smiled. "Sleep tight, mi amigo." He pointed to Diego, but whispered to Bernardo, "Take good care of him, Little One." He reached out a hand and almost touched Diego on the shoulder, but drew it back slowly. He didn't want to disturb Diego's sleep.

Z

The next week, Sergeant Garcia asked Diego to visit him in the Commandante's office. Corporal Reyes answered the knock and announced Diego.

"Gracias, Corporal. You may go now."

"Si, Sergeant." Reyes shut the door behind him.

"How are you today, Sergeant Garcia?" Diego hobbled over to the bench along the wall and propped his foot up on the chair on the other side of the desk. He used a cane, but was able to put a little weight on his foot for short periods of time.

"I am troubled, Don Diego."

"What about, Sergeant?"

"I received another order to arrest someone as a trap for Zorro. It has been three weeks since he was seen in the pueblo and the new Magistrado is impatient. He has to report to Monterey in a week and he wants Zorro captured and executed by the time he leaves."

Diego rolled his eyes. _Do they not have anything better to do than to dream up schemes to capture Zorro_? He smiled. "What exactly did he say in his order, Sergeant? Who did he ask you to arrest?"

"He said I could arrest whoever I wanted, and charge them with whatever I wanted. But I don't want to do it, Don Diego. We have never been able to capture Zorro that way – no matter what kind of trap we set for him. He always finds out about it and rescues the one arrested."

"Zorro _is_ a clever man. What makes the Magistrado think you'll be able to capture him this time?" Diego shifted his foot.

"I don't know, but I think the Magistrado has something planned he has not told me about. His orders were to arrest someone." Garcia shook his head.

"When are you to carry this order out?" Diego leaned forward to scratch his lower leg.

"Tomorrow."

"Who did you have in mind to arrest as bait?"

"I don't know. I hate to put anyone through that." Garcia played with his pen.

"Sergeant, I need a little time to think about this. Since we have until tomorrow…maybe I can come up with something. I will let you know." Diego moved his foot off the chair and began to rise, using his cane for support.

"Gracias, Don Diego. I will do whatever you say." Garcia rose from his chair and helped Diego up the rest of the way.

Z

That night, Zorro made his way to the Magistrado's rooms just outside the cuartel in a rented house. He limped in and waited behind a curtain until the Magistrado came from the tavern. He bound his foot in three thick layers of wrappings, wore a larger size boot, and took a strong pain powder before riding into the pueblo. _I have to give the appearance of being uninjured_. _I hope the Magistrado will be reasonable, and be afraid to fight, but if not, I have to ensure a clean get-away_.

As the Magistrado walked into his bedroom to change his clothes and get ready for bed, he heard a whishing sound. He whirled around towards the window, and saw a black shadow move towards him with what seemed to him with lightning speed.

Zorro removed his cape. He threw it at the Magistrado. It covered his whole head, all the way down to his hands. He quickly limped over to the Magistrado while the older man fumbled with the cape to try to get it off. Zorro grabbed the Magistrado by the arms, shook him, whirled him around, then delivered a hard thump to the back of his head. The Magistrado stumbled and fell, stunned and disoriented.

Zorro picked up the Magistrado, dragged him over to the chair opposite the bed and set him down hard. Air escaped from the Magistrado's lungs as the shock and surprise of the attack caught him off guard. Zorro drew his sword and held it at the Magistrado's back. The Magistrado stiffened when he felt the sharp end of the blade.

"Magistrado, _make no sound_! This is _Zorro_! There will be no more traps! Comprende? No more traps! You will leave on the next coach, earlier than you planned. But before you go, you will rescind Sergeant Garcia's orders to arrest an innocent citizen. Is that clear?"

The Magistrado didn't reply. Zorro put his thumb and second finger together and flicked the Magistrado on the head. The Magistrado cried out in surprise more than pain.

"Is that clear? Nod, if you understand."

The Magistrado moaned with anxiety. He was in reality a very weak man, but enjoyed throwing his weight around as Magistrado.

He nodded.

"Good. I will be watching you to make sure you leave! And – don't ever dare to attempt to trap me again! I have ways of finding out these things. If you do, I will cut you to pieces…inch by inch, until there is nothing left of your skinny, miserable frame!"

The Magistrado sat like a stone statue for another five minutes…until he realized Zorro was gone. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Z

_Sergeant Garcia was dreaming of a great feast. Spread out on the table before him was a huge turkey, sliced to perfection. Potatoes, corn, green beans, vegetables of nearly every kind were in separate dishes. A huge ham was being served on a silver platter._

"_Sergeant! Sergeant Garcia!"_

"_No wait! I am the Governor, not Sergeant. This is my inaugural feast."_

"Sergeant! Sergeant Garcia, wake up! This is Zorro!"

Garcia jumped from his bed, woken from his dream. "Si, Magistrado!" He looked around. "Oh, Zorro! Zorro! It is you! What is going on? Why are you here?"

"I just wanted to tell you Sergeant…you are a good man. Please forgive me for snapping at you out in the wilderness. I – I was not myself. Are we all right?"

Garcia shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands. "Zorro, there is nothing to forgive. We are all right. I will not chase you tonight, but next time…" He wagged his finger.

Zorro laughed. "Si – next time…Oh, by the way…I think you will have new orders in the morning."

"I will?" Garcia sat back on the bed and looked for Zorro, but he had vanished in a whirl of black cape.

Z

The next morning, Diego and Bernardo drove into the pueblo. Bernardo waited in the carriage as Diego talked with Garcia in the commandante's office. Diego was using a cane, but today went back to one crutch. His foot hurt more from the previous night's activities. He kept the triple wrappings on because it helped cushion and protect the foot as he limped along.

"Don Diego! I'm so glad to see you this morning! Good news!" Garcia stood up and motioned for Diego to sit down. Diego waved dismissingly, but smiled largely.

"I'm not staying long. What is your good news?"

"The Magistrado came to me this morning and told me to forget about arresting someone. He said Zorro visited him last night. He left today, instead of Thursday."

"That is truly wonderful news, Sergeant. Everyone in the pueblo can now breathe a sigh of relief. I know I can. I couldn't come up with any solution to your problem yesterday. That's why I didn't send word. So…the Magistrado left, and you are again in charge?"

"Si, Don Diego. Will you have a drink with me?"

"Certainly, Sergeant. What are friends for?" Diego smiled his most charming smile.

"Indeed, Don Diego. You are my best friend!" Garcia slapped Diego on the back, causing Diego nearly to topple over. He regained his balance while holding Garcia's arm. He lifted his crutch to give Garcia a playful whack, but deliberately missed by a mile. Garcia saw the 'attack' coming and dramatically evaded it.

Both men laughed as they walked to the tavern. As they were served their wine tankards, Garcia hoisted his mug and said, "To you, Don Diego, my best friend!"

Diego raised his glass and said, "To friendship, Sergeant. May it last the rest of our lives!"

THE END


End file.
